


cliff's edge (you turn me on)

by Clamat_Submissa



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Barista Louis, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Genderswap, Lesbian Daddy Kink, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, forgot about that detail haha, i guess idk, lol, so if youre not comfortable with that just sKIP, this is so rushed i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:53:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clamat_Submissa/pseuds/Clamat_Submissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> So Louis goes, it's only three steps away and, wow. Harry's in her face. She is right in front of her, in full, beautiful splendor, and Louis finally sees the forest green flecks in her eyes. She sees the soft, small beauty mark above her upper lip, the two or three stray hairs around her eyebrows, her long mascara-rimmed eyelashes and her pink, pouty lips. Louis' never seen anybody this beautiful. </i><br/>-</p><p>Louis is the horrible barista, and Harry's the dedicated lit major that she's infatuated with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	cliff's edge (you turn me on)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [libraryphiliac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/libraryphiliac/gifts).



> So here it isssss! I managed to write this in the midst of finals and projects, so I hope you like it ♥ 
> 
> so like PERSONALLY, lesbian daddy kink is a huge turn on, so i added this in. I hope that's okay ? ♥
> 
> also, if you wanna add to the ~ mood ~ of the fic, read it while listening to Cliff's Edge by Hayley Kiyoko.

She comes in every day at different times, aligning herself according to her schedule. On Mondays and Wednesdays she comes after six in the afternoon and stays until midnight; her _Shakespeare’s Great Characters and Their Worlds_ class ends at five o’clock, so she grabs a bite to eat and then goes to the coffee shop. She never orders a drink; it’s always muffins or scones. Her stay until so late is due to the fact that her only class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, _Dante’s Comedia_ , is at three in the afternoon, so she can afford to stay until the coffee shop is about to close. Fridays, though, are the best days because she doesn’t have class _at all_ , so she stays in the shop practically all day. And it should be creepy, it probably is, the fact that Louis knows her entire schedule without having ever spoken a single word to her, besides “hello, can I take your order?” or “coming right up!”, but she blames it on infatuation. And the fact that she is so friendly, she constantly talks to other coffee shop goers, and her voice is a slow, seductive drawl that Louis’ drawn to. Besides her schedule, she only knows one other thing: her name.

 

“Y’starin’ at Harry again?” Zayn asks, interrupting Louis out of her stupor. And it’s a good thing she did, because Louis was dangerously close to ruining her order.

 

“No,” Louis says bashfully, feeling the heat trickle up to her cheeks. “‘Sides, what’s it to you, huh?”

 

“Well, you _are_ preparing my order, so.”

 

Louis just sighs and finishes it up, grabbing and shaking the whipped cream bottle and pouring a hefty amount on top of Zayn’s mocha latte. She hands it to her once she’s done and proceeds to lean against the counter and sigh, looking straight at Harry who is, per usual, completely oblivious.

 

“What do I need to do to get a girl like that?” Louis muses, her chin tilted slightly. The thing is, Harry is so smart and beautiful. She’s kind to everyone, including strangers, and she seems like the kind of person that can bewitch someone with a simple smile. Louis wonders sometimes how she’s even real, and there are times where she focuses her energy on trying to find flaws in Harry instead of making coffee. So far, she’s only found one: she covers her mouth when she laughs, so Louis can’t really hear what is probably the most beautiful laugh, ever.

 

Zayn pokes her cheek and smiles. "Flirt with her, show that you're interested."

 

"Now, you see, I can't do that."

 

"Why not?"

 

Louis starts flailing her hands around, wide-eyed and sputtering. "Be-Because she might not be interested back!"

 

"Since when has that stopped you?" Zayn asks, taking a sip of her steaming mocha. "'Sides, you're constantly getting numbers from people all over. You're like, insanely gorgeous, so I don't know what's got your confidence shaken."

 

She blushes in response and only shifts her gaze back to Harry, a smile too fond taking over when she sees her frowning at something on her computer screen. "She's different, I guess."

 

"Different how?"

 

"It's like - she is _so_ intelligent, and beautiful, and kind, and everything I have ever wanted in a person. So it's intimidating, y'know?"

 

Zayn only smiles knowingly and shakes her head. "What's intimidating is that she has such a strong hold on you without so much as talking properly with you."

 

"Oh hush you, you were the same with Niall."

 

At that it's Zayn's turn to blush and look towards the door, where her girlfriend was just walking through. Louis' thankful that it's a slow day because she can talk to her friends while on the job (and stare at Harry a little bit in a nonchalant, non-creepy way, of course). When Niall reaches the side of the counter, she kisses Zayn's cheek and leans over to hug Louis.

 

"Hey babes, what's goin' on?" She asks, her already-big smile widening when Zayn wraps her arm around her waist. They're such an adorable, lovely couple and Louis has always admired - and envied - that of them.

 

"Louis is 'aving an existential love crisis."

 

"I am _not_ ," Louis scoffs at Zayn and picks up a rag to clean a spot of coffee.

 

"Oh, right, that Harry gal, right?" Niall says a bit too loudly, and Louis wants to die. "I haven't seen her yet! Point 'er at me, where is she?"

 

Louis looks towards the table Harry's sitting in and - she's not there. Her stuff is there, her laptop still on and her books and papers still spread over the table, but there is no Harry.

 

"Uh, excuse me?" Louis hears her voice from the front of the counter, clearly waiting for her to take her order, but. She's frozen. Louis is literally frozen in space and time because _what if she heard her_?

 

"Lou," Zayn whispers. "Go."

 

Louis only shakes her head slightly and she swears her body gives a little, uncontrollable jerk when she hears Harry ask, "Hello, I'd like to order, please?"

 

"Louis, go over there and charm her pants off!" Zayn whispers and pushes her towards the front.

 

Louis looks back momentarily to glare at her, but Zayn is staring back intently while Niall's mouthing _flirt_.

 

So Louis goes, it's only three steps away and, wow. Harry's in her face. She is right in front of her, in full, beautiful splendor, and Louis finally sees the forest green flecks in her eyes. She sees the soft, small beauty mark above her upper lip, the two or three stray hairs around her eyebrows, her long mascara-rimmed eyelashes and her pink, pouty lips. Louis' never seen anybody this beautiful.

 

"Hey, could I have a triple, venti, half-sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato?" And, oh.

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

This was her ultimate flaw.

 

There was a brief pause where Louis just stared at her. "Come again?"

 

Harry smiles so, so beautifully - too beautifully for the sinister thing that's about to come out. "A triple, venti, half-sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato? If that's okay?"

 

The thing is, it isn't okay, because Louis has no fucking _clue_ how to do that drink. But. "Sure thing, sweetheart! Coming right up."

 

She looks bashfully at Louis and murmurs a _thank you_ , but before she can fully leave Louis stops her. "Wait!"

 

She turns around, confused but with a small smile. "Yeah?"

 

Louis' eyes widen because _she has nothing to say_ , so she says the first thing that comes to mind. "You look really beautiful today."

 

At that her cheeks redden and she looks around the shop, as if to avoid staring back at her. "Thanks. You, um, you're very cute, too."

 

With that, she leaves. And while Louis is trying to conjure up the impossible order she's been given, all she can think about is _fuck, cute is_ definitely _not datable or fuckable, she just thinks I’m like a small cat or something_. She glances over to Niall and Zayn, where Zayn is laughing uncontrollably while Niall just looks sheepish, and she really wants to know what happened, but she’s so close to messing this order up. Her full attention needs to be towards the macchiato.

 

With a little help from Google, it only takes her seventeen minutes and three failed attempts to make it happen. So, once she’s done, she yells, “Order up for Harry!”

 

The harried girl looks up from her book, her hair now up in a messy bun, curls falling down her face, and she quickly goes to get her drink. Louis watches her and, dare she say, she has heart palpitations with every step. When she gets there though, she just hands the drink to her, not looking, and apologizes.

 

“‘M sorry it took me so long to get your order done, I hadn’t done that drink before.”

 

To her surprise, Harry giggles and keeps her hand on the cup, not quite drawing it out of Louis’ hands so their fingers press against each other. At that, Louis looks at her and smiles sheepishly, not quite understanding until Harry speaks up. “No, _I’m_ sorry for ordering such a complicated drink. I swear I’m not like, the stereotypical white girl with difficult orders. My roommate just told me the other day to order it, saying it was ‘the best drink ever’.”

 

Louis’ eyes widen and she laughs. “How very dare you!” She smiles at her and clicks her tongue. “Kinda wanna meet that roommate of yours, show off my awesome skills.”

 

“Oh, well she’s right there,” Harry points at the side of the counter and, _no_. _No, no, no, no no. Fucking -_ “Hey, Niall!” She waves at the girl who grins widely at her but flinches once she sees Louis’ murderous intent. “Well, I better get back to my homework. I have a paper due tonight, you know.”

 

Louis calms down and tries to give her the sweetest look she can muster at the moment. “Alright then, love. Good luck!”

 

She smiles softly and walks away. Her retreating figure looks so good, and Louis could stare at her with a longing expression for a thousand years, but.

 

“ _Niall_ ,” Louis hisses and walks towards her. Zayn’s still doubled over laughing - now she knows why - while Niall is trying to look at anywhere but her. “What the actual _fuck_ , Niall? I’ve been talkin’ about Harry for _months_ , and you couldn’t mention she’s your roommate?”

 

“I didn’t know that was the Harry you were talking about!”

 

“ _How many girls do you know with the name Harry?_ ”

 

Niall splutters at that and dares to look sheepish. “I’m sorry, okay! I don’t know why I never made the connection!”

 

“And _you_ ,” She now points at Louis with a snare, her eyes wild. “You’ve _seen_ her before, why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Well, she wasn’t there whenever I was around,” Zayn says in between chuckles. “She was always here, ‘member? I’m always at Niall’s while you’re on your shift.”

 

Well, _fuck_ , now who can she blame? She’s out of blaming options, and her shift ends in, like, two minutes. So she decides to ignore them, wipe the counter off, and clock out - but not before grabbing a cream cheese muffin. Niall and Zayn walk out while she’s cleaning, waiting for her in the car, but she decides, out of sheer momentary bravery, to stop by Harry’s table before leaving.

 

“Hey,” Harry looks up and Louis just hands her the muffin. She knows it’s her favorite, it’s the only one she’s ordered before, so she’s confident she’ll like it. With a smile, she adds, “Best of luck on your paper, love.”

 

She doesn’t wait to see Harry’s reactions because, chances are, she’ll be creeped out. However, she’s sure on one thing - she has to spend more time at Niall’s now.

 

+

 

It turns out that Zayn was right - Harry’s never in the room.

 

Louis has been going there almost nonstop every single day, staying as long as she possibly can, but Harry never seems to come. Apparently, according to Niall, she only comes to sleep and stuff. Sometimes for lunch, but rarely so. She suspects it’s because she has a lot of friends and such, but nothing’s for sure.

 

_“So, what do you know about her?” Louis asked Niall the third time she went to her flat. She had been waiting for over seven hours and Harry hadn’t made a single appearance. It was unsettling._

 

_“All I know is that she’s, like, the nicest person I’ve ever met, Lou. I swear. She is so kind.”_

 

_“Yeah, but what about sexuality-wise?”_

 

_“I have no clue. I don’t know much about her besides, like, biographical shit. Oh! And that she used to be a baker.”_

 

_“A baker?” Louis arched her right eyebrow suggestively. “That means she knows how to knead these buns, if you get what I’m sayin’?”_

 

_Zayn punched her in the arm and chuckled. “We get it, your arse is the best thing about you, now can we get goin’? I haven’t finished my oil painting for class.”_

 

However, every single time Louis works at the coffee shop, she’s there. She still doesn’t order drinks; she sticks to scones and cream cheese muffins. They do small chitchat from time to time, and Louis has learned small details about Harry; how she has a cat, Dusty, and she’s a third year. She loves cotton candy and the smell of apples and cinnamon. Also, things like what her favorite constellation is, and how long it takes to get from McDonald’s to 7/11.

 

Louis’ noticed new things about her, now; she notices how large her hands are, how small everything looks in them; how she takes big, broad bites out of everything, sometimes finishing scones in just one bite. Sometimes she lets her curly hair cascade, other times she puts it up in the messiest of buns; this one time, she came in with her hair straightened, and although she looked as gorgeous as always, she thinks she prefers the curly hair. Even though it doesn’t really matter what she does or doesn’t prefer.

 

She ordered Niall to keep a close eye on Harry’s affairs, just in case she gets the chance to meet up with her outside of work. Louis sees Niall walk in at seven o’clock on a Saturday, two and a half weeks after her impactful interaction with Harry, and sits at the table Harry’s at; normally Harry sits alone but this time, she’s sitting with this other beautiful woman who looks similar to her. Louis refuses to look into that much. She’s currently serving this bloke who is actually his type; he’s tall, buff, warm brown eyes and a gentle smile.

 

“Could I have a grande, iced, roasted chestnut macchiato?” His voice is deep and Louis wants to ask him to sing for her. In any other normal circumstance she would be all over him, thinking of ways she could climb him, but these aren’t normal circumstances. She knows someone like Harry exists.

 

“Yeah, sure, love,” She smiles and grabs a grande cup, writing the abbreviations down with a sharpie. “Anything else?”

 

“Just your number, if possible.”

 

At that she looks up, blushing slightly. The thing is, he is gorgeous, so she really doesn’t want to pass up the opportunity because, chances are, Harry’s not even into girls. She gives him a flirty smile and clicks her tongue, “What’s your name, pretty boy?”

 

“It’s Liam,” He smiles. She nods and writes it down. She places the cup next to her so that her fellow worker, Kendall, to start doing. She crunched the numbers and gave him his total. He pays quick enough but doesn’t leave, which makes her arc her eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want anything else?”

 

“I just didn’t see your number there,” He smirks but then he backs up quite a bit, his smile falling. “Unless you’re not interested? If you’re not interested, that’s totally fine, I just wanted to know-”

 

“Oh, I’m definitely interested, pretty boy,” Louis winks and she’s actually giddy when his smile returns. “Good things come to those who wait.”

 

He laughs at that and nods, backing away from the counter then. She goes on to attend the other customer, who also tries to flirt with her but she doesn’t pay mind, and when Louis sees Niall stand up and head towards the side of the counter, she switches with Kendall.

 

“When am I going to get hit on by gorgeous men?” Kendall muses softly while handing Louis the apron. Louis laughs and murmurs, “As if you were interested in men.”

 

At that she just laughs and continues on. Louis grabs Liam’s cup and writes her number there, out of sheer impulse. Before she can regret it, she calls out his name and hands him the cup with a wink. He makes the call gesture with his hand and walks away with a smile.

 

She then goes towards Niall, who is shaking her short, pixie-like hair at me with a mischievous glance. “Tch, tch, Tommo. So promiscuous.”

 

“Ay, shut it, you,” Louis blushes and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me the scoop.”

 

“Well, it just so happens that a harried lit major known as Harry Styles is going to go to a certain Sig Nu’s party tonight.”

 

“Tonight? Oh, I’m free tonight,” Louis bites her lip and winks at Niall. “We goin’, then?”

 

“Of _course_ ,” Niall says. “Already told Zayn to bring my makeup and pretty clothes to your flat.”

 

“Excuse me, gals, but I got an important question to ask,” Kendall interrupts, her eyes never leaving Harry’s table. “Niall, who is the purple-haired beauty sitting next to Louis’ infatuation?”

 

“ _That_ would be Gemma, Harry’s older sister,” Niall leans in a little bit and whispers, “Harry told me she’s as gay as they come.”

 

Kendall pumps her fist in the air and with the yell of _Going on my break now, Lou!_ she goes towards the table. Louis sometimes wishes she had that innate confidence, but for now, the knowledge she has is more than enough. “Speaking of sexualities, Harry…”

 

“As pan as the skillets you use, sweetheart.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis accidentally screams and the three or four customers sitting around the shop, including Harry, stare at her in amusement. She doesn’t _care_ , though, because she now knows she has a chance with the girl she’s been low-key obsessing over. "Thank you, Niall."

 

"What are friends for?" She shrugs and tilts her head towards Harry's table. "Harry, nine o'clock."

 

Niall leaves, then, and Louis is left struggling for air as Harry approaches the counter. She looks so pretty, is the thing; it's started to get kind of cold so she's wearing these big, fluffy jackets that make her look so adorable, and leggings that highlight her long legs. The only bad thing about the season is that she's wearing a scarf, which covers up the previously-exposed pale, smooth-looking column of her neck. "Hey, Lou! How are you?"

 

"'M good, love, you?" She asks cordially, trying not to look deeply into her eyes and lose herself.

 

"'M stressed; gotta do this thing where I interview random people and compare them to literary characters, and I seem to be missing one other person to interview..." Harry's cheeks are tinted red while she looks away from Louis, bashful. She is so fucking adorable, Louis seriously can't. 

 

"I- uh, I could help, if you want, um," Louis coughs into her hand to try and puff out the nerves. "If you don't have anyone."

 

Harry lights up like a Christmas tree, and Louis only wishes she could make her happy like this all the time. "Sure, yes! That would be great! Thank you! When are you free?"

 

"I'm free now, if you'd like," Louis shrugs and walks out of the counter. Normally, she'd call on Kendall to take her position, but seeing as she has apparently disappeared with Harry's sister, she'll have to leave the counter unmanned. Not that she cares, though; she's going to be talking to  _Harry_. 

 

"Are you sure?" Harry bites her bottom lip and looks at her worriedly. "I don't want to get you into trouble."

 

"It's fine," Louis waves her off slightly. "My boss, Nick, is like,  _really_ into me, so he lets me do just about whatever the fuck I want."

 

Harry looks at her apprehensively but nods anyway. "Alright, if you say so."

 

They sit down on a corner booth - one that Louis has declared as the  _love booth_ , starting now - and Harry takes out a small notebook and a pink pen. She places them on the table and takes out a hair band, takes all of her beautiful curls and puts them up in a lovely, thick bun. If Louis wasn't endeared before, she is now. "Okay, love, so what am I supposed to do?"

 

"Just sit there and look pretty."

 

Louis' eyes widen and her cheeks turn a dusty pink. Did she - "Oh god! I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable, it was just a joke!"

 

Harry looks dead worried, her eyes comically wide as her hands flail wildly in the air. She grabs Louis' hands softly and shakes her head. "I swear, I didn't mean to-"

 

"Love, you're perfectly fine," Louis giggles and gives her the sweetest smile she can muster. Harry's honestly so adorable. "I wasn't, like, offended or anything. You just caught me by surprise, it's all."

 

"Oh," Harry takes her hands away, prompting Louis to internally scream  _please never let go of my hands_ , and places them on her chest, exhaling in relief. "For a moment there, I thought I -"

 

"Don't worry, you didn't," Louis cuts her off as gently as possible, really not in the mood to be told that  _I thought I gave you the wrong impression, I'm not even a lil bit into you, sorry luv_. "So, what am I  _really_ supposed to do?"

 

Harry's eyes soften and she grins. "Just answer honestly to my questions."

 

"That's it?"

 

"Mm-hmm," Harry nods and flips the spiral notebook open. "Now, the first questions are your basics: full name, age, hometown, major, relationship status, the works."

 

Louis thinks she heard a hurried hitch in Harry's tone when she mentioned the one, but she might have imagined it. "Okay, so. Louis Tomlinson, 21, Doncaster, Theater major, and I'm single."

 

"Not for long, though, right?" Harry murmurs softly, a smile picking up from the sides of her lips. "I saw that guy earlier, flirting with you. He was right fit."

 

Louis thought she was too immersed in her work to pay her any attention, but she was clearly wrong. "Oh, yeah, but nothing's gonna happen there."

 

"You sure? I mean, he was really fit."

 

"Y'want him for yourself, is that what this is?" Louis says jokingly, chuckling softly at the look of alarm on Harry's face. "He was fit, yes, but I'm sure nothing's gonna happen there. Y'see, I've got my eyes on this lovely gal..."

 

"Gal?" Harry's head picks up hurriedly, to the point she fears she's gotten whiplash. "You're not straight?"

 

"No, I'm not," Louis confirms. "I'm bisexual. Sorry if that, like, complicates your project or, y'know, makes you uncomfortable..."

 

"Nah, I'm pan myself," Harry smiles, winking slightly. "And don't worry about the project. I'm sure there must be  _someone_ you at least resemble a little."

 

Louis agrees and nods. After that, there's a flurry of questions that range from normal -  _what is your favorite colour?_ \- to slightly weird -  _if you were to be a colour, which colour would you be?_ \- to completely insane -  _let's say you're, like, a wall or a building of some sort, right? and you had a mouth or something, and you can communicate with humans and stuff, what would you say?_ \- and Louis feels herself falling more and more with this wonderful woman. 

 

"Okay, last one," Harry looks intently at her and continues, "If you were to flirt with someone, like in a poem or such, what would you do?"

 

"I would, maybe, use a lot of symbolism," Louis leans her face on the palm of her hand. "Maybe let her know I'm into her with subtle things? Like, calling her 'love' a lot and offer her free muffins every now and then. Symbolically, of course."

 

Harry stops writing halfway through and just looks at Louis strangely. "But that's what you do with me."

 

Louis arches her eyebrows comically and grins at her. "I know, right? Shocking, I wonder why..."

 

"You-  _You_ were flirting with  _me_?" 

 

"Why is that so surprising?" Louis crosses her arms over her chest and leans back on her chair. Harry looks immensely flabbergasted, and even though she looks cute, Louis is confused. 

 

"Well, you're  _you_."

 

"What does that even mean?"

 

"I mean," Harry's entire face is red, now. "You're, like, insanely hot. And nice. And you get numbers from hot people basically on a daily basis. What would you want with someone like me?"

 

It dawns on Louis, then, that Harry doesn't quite realize how wonderful she is. And it hurts, it hurts her deeply because Harry is so, so precious. She takes it upon herself to let her know, then. Louis grabs her hands and prompts Harry to look at her. When she does, she says, "What would I want with someone intelligent, dedicated, ambitious, extremely kind, gentle and  _beautiful_? Gosh, who knows."

 

Harry keeps staring at her, then, as if every word leaving her mouth is alien and foreign. It's  _insane_ , though, the thought that she doesn't know how great she is; people like Harry should always, daily, hourly be reminded how wonderful they are. There's a silence between them but it's not necessarily bad or awkward; it's just silence. After a few moments, Harry squeezes Louis' hands and takes hers away, closing her little notebook and putting all of her stuff back. Louis sighs, feeling like she's ruined absolutely everything now, but then -

 

"There's this, um," Harry licks her lips, not quite looking at Louis but not quite looking away. "There's this party going on, at Sig Nu. Tonight. It starts at, like, ten, um," Harry now glances at Louis, and she's already a goner. "It would be really lovely to see you there."

 

Louis doesn't mention that she already knew about it, and that she was already going to go, just for her. Instead, she stands up and nods. With a smile, she says, "I'll see you there, then, love."

 

She doesn't quite see Harry picking her stuff up and leaving, busy cleaning her station - something that was Kendall's turn to do - but she's sure that tonight's going to be great.

 

+

 

They reach the party at around one in the morning. During the entire ride Louis swears at Zayn for arriving so late because Harry _probably_ already got there and she _probably_ danced with other pretty girls and she _probably_ left home with one of them and they aren’t Louis. She’s, like, drop dead gorgeous in normal clothes, Louis can’t even _imagine_ how fit she is with a dress and heels.

 

The party is roaring; there are drunk, passed out people on the courtyard, there’s a group of stoners getting high on the sidewalk, and the music coming from the frat house is booming. Once they enter, Niall and Zayn head off their own way while Louis just assesses the crowd. There are so many beautiful people there; Louis is _definitely_ leaving with somebody, even if it’s not Harry. Definitely. Possibly. Maybe. Not really. She really wants it to be Harry.

 

And, the thing is, Louis looks _hot_. She’s wearing a little black dress, tight top with a V-neck so deep the cleavage of her boobs is enticing. The back is cut in a triangle pattern, the freckles there exposed. The skirt of it is loose enough that, if she spins, her black thong is exposed - something she planned to do to get Harry's attention, if necessary. Her heels were high, almost five inches tall - which is a serious improvement, considering Louis is barely five-three, but she knows Harry’s tall, so. Louis even curled her long hair a little bit, towards the end, so that the small curls cascaded three inches above her bum. She can’t remember a time she worked this hard to look good, so she hopes Harry appreciates it.

 

After two hours of mingling around and having only one drink, Louis decides to go out by the balcony, a second vodka cranberry in hand. She hasn’t seen Harry anywhere, so she assumes she’s left. Knowing Niall and Zayn, they’re probably fucking in a random room, so she’s just going outside for a smoke.

 

The music isn’t as loud outside, though she can still feel the bass reverberate in her chest. She presses her maroon-tinted lips to the butt of the cig and lights it up, drawing slow inhales. The sky looks pretty, pretty enough to stare at for hours but still not quite as pretty as Harry.

 

“Hi, sorry to - Louis?”

  
Louis turns around and - she’s there. Harry is there and she’s much more beautiful than Louis could have imagined. She’s wearing a tight-fitting burgundy short dress, not really reaching her mid-thighs, and the round, neck-bound collar doesn’t do much to dissimulate her large chest. She’s adorned with gold jewelry, a look fit for a queen, and as expected she is towering over Louis with heels that must be _at least_ three inches.

 

“Hi,” Louis breathes out, the smoke following the words. “Harry, how you doin’?”

 

"Thought you didn't come, or that I missed you," Harry approaches her and stands next to her. Her scent is that of jasmines and strawberries, and it’s intoxicating in all the right ways. “Realized I forgot to give you my number, and stuff. Couldn't, like, communicate with you.”

 

“It's fine, love, at least we caught up with one another,” Louis takes a drag from her cigarette. She realizes Harry's staring, so she lowers it before looking at Harry with alarm. “Sorry, does this bother you?”

 

“No, not at all. In fact, can I,” Louis follows with her eyes how Harry moistens her pale pink lips. “Can I take a drag?”

 

“Of course,” Louis nods and puts her drink on the broad platform of the balustrades. She goes to search for the pack in her purse but Harry beats her to it by taking the cig that was already between her fingers. She watches, entranced, how Harry presses her lips on the same place she had pressed hers before. Her cheeks hollow inhumanely as she inhales. Then, she blows the smoke directly at Louis’ face, and. It’s so insanely erotic, is the thing. And the colors, melded into one another on the cigarette, look so good. Louis wants to mix them with their lips.

 

“You know, technically, we just kissed.” Louis has no idea what motivated her to say such a stupid thing, but she pins it on Harry. Harry’s presence makes her feel and act dumb.

 

Harry giggles and closes in on Louis. Louis doesn’t flinch or back out but rather tilts her head upward, the perfect angle for Harry to kiss her. She doesn’t, though; Harry instead just asks, "Were you serious, earlier today? 'Bout, y'know, being interested in me?"

 

"Of course," Louis whispers. She wants to chase after Harry's voice, her smell, her lips. She wants her.

 

“Are you drunk? How much have you had to drink?”

 

“Only one, and a little bit of another,” Louis answers. Harry nods in acknowledgement and smiles.

 

“I haven’t had any,” Harry reassures and her face is so, _so_ close to hers, Louis’ heart starts beating rapidly. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Louis says as she locks her hands behind Harry’s neck and leans in, her lips pressing against the other girl’s with fervor and desire. Harry’s hands latch unto Louis’ waist, guiding her body against the corner of the balcony, as she rids Louis of her very last breath. Her lips have a tinge of smoke, but for some reason she tastes like orange. 

 

"Y'taste like orange," she says against her lips.

 

Harry laughs, as if swallowing up every word. "I was eating an orange before coming out here."

 

"I must taste like a smokehouse," Louis murmurs. "'M sorry."

 

"Y'taste like charred cranberries, with a tinge of alcohol."

 

"You taste like Edgar Allen Poe's wet dream," Louis separates a little bit, taking it as a bad thing, but Harry only presses her even closer. She kisses her quickly, dirtily, and says, "I love it."

 

At that she just grins widely and captures Harry's lips again, her back arched against the wooden balustrades of the balcony while Harry bites off the grin from her lips. Louis' hands can't get enough, they're roaming freely all over Harry's body. Her skin feels warm and smooth under her hands, and her fingernails latch unto the expense of Harry's back as the taller girl squeezes her bum. She's getting wet just from  _kissing_ Harry, she can't imagine how she'd be doing anything else. With Harry underneath her fingertips, hot and sweaty and ever so smooth, Louis wants to familiarize herself with her mouth, tongue, lips, her hands, fingers, and her thighs.

 

She really wants to ride her. Louis desperately realizes, she really wants to ride Harry's thigh. Their kiss intensifies, the breaths they're taking are getting shallower by the second, and Louis grabs one of Harry's hand from her bum. Harry's breath hitches, she feels the slight hesitation on the tip of her tongue, so she places it on her dress, in front of where her pussy is and only whispers, "Please."

 

Harry disconnects their lips momentarily and looks at Louis, her eyes heavily lidded. Her hand moves teasingly, too slowly for Louis' liking, as she slips it up Louis' dress. They're alone out in the balcony but the doors to the house are transparent, so anyone from inside could see them and that's getting Louis even wetter than she's already. Harry's hand only press slightly against Louis' wetness, the pressure enough to make her breath hitch but that's it. She's not moving her hand, not saying anything, not  _doing_ anything for the next few seconds; she's just letting her fingers thread lightly over the soft material of Louis' thong. Then, though, she moves Louis' thong aside and presses her thumb against her clit.

 

"Like this? Outside, in the open?" Harry drags her lips over the column of Louis' throat while the girl under her moans loudly, swallowing the urge to scream at the overwhelming need to be touched. "Who would've thought, Louis the barista, desperate to be wrecked in a balcony."

 

Louis only moans in response, her hips rolling forward to force Harry's touch to be all over her pussy. It's not enough, though, not nearly, so she whines," Harry, please, I need -"

 

"What do you need?" Harry pushes her hips to a definite halt against the balustrade, her thumb applying even more pressure to Louis' throbbing clit than before. "Tell me,  _beg_ me."

 

Louis gasps and nods desperately, her fingers scratching her open back. "I-I need yo- _ah_ , need you to f-fuckin' rub my wet pussy till I can't talk,  _please, ah_. Wanna ride your thigh, too."

 

She feels Harry smile against her neck as she glides her finger through the folds. "You're wet enough," Is all she says before kicking Louis' legs apart and dragging her hand, specifically four of her fingers pressed tightly against each other, over her pussy. Louis immediately goes boneless, held up by the balustrade now, and she moans loudly as Harry's rubbing her cunt in quick strokes; her hands are going back and forth with a thrusting force that drives Louis insane, her hands moving to Harry's hair to tug at it. 

 

" _Fuck_ ," Louis grunts when Harry squeals at the hair pull, her hand stopping momentarily. "Y'like me pulling yer hair, eh?"

 

"Not about me right now, love," Harry's rubbing Louis at a slightly slower pace now, while she puts her thigh in between the loose skirt of Louis' dress. She lifts up the skirt so that her thigh is under Louis' cunt yet not exposing all of her. Louis' breath hitches as she sees what's coming and she is so turned on she can feel herself dripping. Harry's lips latch unto Louis' skin once more, nibbling on where she tainted with her lipstick, eliciting a small squeak from Louis. "Right now, how 'bout you try 'nd get yourself off on my thigh, hm? Be a good girl for me?"

 

"Mm-hmm, _god_ ," Louis throws her head back at that because - never had she thought Harry would be this dominant or domineering, and she's loving it. She wants to be under Harry, under her command and mouth, and she wants to be good. Good for her, good enough to be remembered. She nods, then, breathing too heavily to properly say anything, and sits slowly on Harry's thigh. With their height difference being what it is, it's not exactly difficult for Louis to ride her thigh and not feel like she's falling over; still, Harry's hands on her waist and her own grabbing onto her shoulders are a good countermeasure.

 

She starts out slow, her lips grazing over her thigh only slightly. The pressure feels good, though; her clit is throbbing, she can feel it pulsating, so biting down unto her bottom lip Louis begins to properly grind onto Harry. And,  _fuck_ , Louis doesn't think she's felt this good in  _ages_.

 

"Harry,  _ah_ , c-can you -  _yes_ ," Harry seems to be a mind-reader, nibbling on Louis' collarbones without her asking. 

 

"Gettin' my thigh all wet, drownin' on you," Harry murmurs, making Louis look at her in the eyes and snapping her hips harder, moving front and back in quick successions. "Can't imagine how wet you'll be for me when 've got my mouth on you, tongue lickin' you all up."

 

" _Jesus fuck, Harry,_ " Louis moans and rubs harder against Harry, as hard and quick as she can, while Harry gives her a hickey slightly above her collarbone. 

 

"Yes, baby, just like that," One of Harry's hands moves towards her back, her fingers treading slightly over Louis' bum, and Louis feels hot all over. Her skin is prickling with anticipation, sweat glistening her beautifully. "Bein' a good girl f'r me."

 

"Good girl?" Louis whimpers, letting out soft cries of pleasure when Harry's finger taps her asshole. 

 

"Such a good girl," Harry replies, softly slapping her arse cheeks as she grinds on, the pressure on her thigh increasing. "C'mon, babe, come for me."

 

She didn't even realize how close she was until Harry mentioned it. She's so, desperately close, her climax building in a hot pool at the pit of her stomach. She moves her hands to the side of Harry's face, now, and drags it up to enrapture her in a hot, dirty kiss. She's panting into her mouth as she approaches her climax, ready to come on her but she needs something  _more_ , something's  _missing_ , and she doesn't know what it is.

 

"M-More," She moans, unrelenting on her pace. "Need more,  _mm_."

 

"Y'need more?" Harry grabs her arse cheek harshly, her fingernails digging into the hot flesh of her bum, and bites into her lower lip, breaking the skin slightly. Louis all but screams, finally coming hard on her thigh. Her chest is heaving unnaturally, her heart's pounding slightly painfully against it, all while she's trying to control her erratic breathing.

 

Harry kisses her sweetly, then, prompting her to calm done. Louis sucks unto her tongue gently, letting her invade her mouth and lick the roof of it. The heat between them is suffocating, but Louis wants to suffocate on the heat between Harry's thighs. 

 

"Wanna go upstairs?" Louis' lips are still against Harry, making her taste every word. With a harsh nod, Harry puts Louis' skirt completely down and drags her inside the frat house again. Maybe it's because the crowd's thinned a bit, maybe it's because they're both desperate, but they seem to find an empty room almost as soon as they enter. 

 

Harry pushes Louis on the bed immediately, looking at her while she takes her heels off. Louis follows suit, taking off her heels as well as her dress. After throwing her thong somewhere and unhooking her bra, she finally looks up and finds Harry, entirely naked, gazing at her with hunger in her eyes.

 

Her body - Harry's body - is majestic, goddess-like, awaiting praise. She had seen some of her tattoos before, the ones on her arms and legs, but never these ones. Harry has a butterfly stretching its wings underneath her large tits, spread out like how she feels at the moment. Beautiful leaves are stretching up from her hip bones, long and lean like Harry's legs, and her bush is trimmed to a perfect triangle. There's sweat glistening her pale skin, and Louis feels like she needs an hour just to drink in her beauty.

 

"You're fucking beautiful," Louis gasps out, her legs spreading while Harry situates herself between them. Harry starts kissing up the column of her neck, making her breath hitch slightly. "So devastatingly beautiful."

 

" _I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face. I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes_ ," Harry whispers against her lips, gnawing off a kiss. "You're the incarnate of a Pablo Neruda love poem."

 

"Don't know if I completely understood that, but it did wonders to my body," Louis bites her lip as she swallows Harry's laughter.

 

"How are you with weird?" Harry asks, her hands running over Louis' breast, dissipating the joking nature in less than a second.

 

"I love weird," Louis murmurs, her hands latching unto Harry's bum. "Bring it on me."

 

Harry smiles down at her and presses her body down. Louis moans at the pressure and heat their bodies create, her breath growing shallow as Harry's mouth nears her ear. Her tongue darts out, licking the shell of her ear just right before she moans, "I want you to call me Daddy."

 

" _Fuck,"_ Louis mewls, her back arching instinctively. "Yes,  _yes_ , 'm gonna call you Daddy."

 

Harry shivers at the name, clearly showing signs of arousal, and seeing her skin get pinkish from the heat makes Louis feel overwhelmed. She switches them around, so that she's sitting on top of Harry's thighs. She seems to be the one who's in control but really, it's Harry. 

 

"C'n I eat you out, Daddy?" She asks, seeming as innocent as possible, licking her lips. Harry groans at the question and she harshly grabs unto Louis' hair. With a hiss of  _yes_ , she pushes Louis back and the older woman gets the hint. She gets further down the bed, her head between the 'v' of Harry's legs, and she can feel her heat radiating in waves. Harry smells musky yet sweet, she is literally Louis' wet dream.

 

Harry pushes her head down unto her pussy, tightening the grip she had on her hair to control her better. "Be a good girl for Daddy, hm? Gonna lick me up real good, make Daddy come?"

 

Louis' eyes glaze over with want and need and  _desperation_ , desperation to get Harry off, to do as Daddy pleases. "Yes, Daddy, I-  _mm_ ," Harry forces her face against her cunt, Louis' mouth casually in front of her lips. With how Harry's holding her, she can't tease; she drags her tongue twice over Harry's pussy, dragging long strokes to get her taste on her tongue. It's overwhelming, the heavy, wonderful taste that is  _Harry_ , with the woman moaning with every drag of the tongue. She mouths over the clit, sucks it in gently before licking all over in harsh strobes. The sounds of Harry whimpering above her, grunting and twitching her hips to match Louis. She tries to place her hands on Harry's hips for some leverage, but Harry's moving too much and she can't quite hold on; so her hands go on her tits instead, gripping onto them while she soaks up all of her.

 

"Can I-" Harry presses Louis' head softly against her cunt, gently. With a harsh nod, Louis stuck out her tongue and let Harry shove her entire face against her pussy, grinding on her face.

 

"Yeah,  _fuck_ , yes, just like that," Harry chants, chasing her climax. Louis has decided that her favorite noise in the entire world is the sound of her tongue dragging insatiably over Harry's folds, drinking up her scent, her taste, her everything. It's a good heat, what's surrounding her, and with Harry's legs trapping her head she'd die happily right there and then. "Make me come, make Daddy come, c'mon, baby girl."

 

Louis emits a keen, small noise from the back of her throat at being called  _baby girl_ , and she shakes her head in contrast to Harry's thrusts, sucking and licking and mouthing at everything Harry has to offer. Harry moans loud enough to make Louis shiver and her grip softens on her hair, a sign of her upcoming release.

 

"Fuck, 'm gonna come, 'm so  _close_ , I -" She releases in Louis' mouth when she sucks at her clit, making obscene noises, and dragging out the feeling with her thumb half inside of her. 

 

When Harry releases Louis' hair entirely, her chest going up and down in heavy bouts, Louis flutters kisses all over her body. She mouths at two beauty marks she has on her thighs, drags her mouth wetly over the hood, making Harry tremble with an aftershock but she continues on. She leaves a trail of kisses from the bottom of Harry's navel to her boobs - perky and plump, a full hand - and stops. She stops, because Harry's looking at her with such intensity, it wrecks something inside of her. 

 

"Did I do good?" She asks, her eyes slightly glazed over. Her lover doesn't answer, just drags her face upwards and kisses her passionately, languidly, ridding her of every breath. The fact that Harry is currently tasting  _herself_ , though, makes her wet, her pussy dripping and taking away whatever sweet gesture there might have been.

 

"Daddy," Louis breaks away, whining from the back of her throat. "Daddy, 'm so wet."

 

"I know," Harry says. She makes them sit straight, upright, and she puts three fingers against Louis' lips. She happily takes them in, sucking wetly, loudly, hollowing her cheeks to get them in deep. It's a mesmerizing sight for Harry, she can see that; can see how Harry's eyes, too, glaze over slightly, and how her thighs twitch in arousal. She takes them out too soon, though, and puts the first one inside of Louis.

 

She sighs happily at having something inside of her,  _finally_ , and Harry's fingers resemble her legs; long, lean, graceful. She tentatively curls it inside, accommodating Louis to the slight stretch before adding her middle finger. At the inclusion, Louis moans a broken  _Daddy_ , her hips snapping shortly to get them in deeper but Harry stops her. She whines loudly but stops, waiting with anticipation for Harry to add the third one.

 

"Y'ready for more, Darling?" Harry twists the fingers, making her jolt and whine but she still answers a soft  _yes_. Harry adds a third  _and_ a fourth finger, then, which takes Louis by surprise.

 

" _Ah_ ,  _shit"_ She mewls and grabs onto her tits, her nails raking over her nipples. "Yes,  _please_ , fuck me hard,  _fuck me_."

 

Harry only smiles and gives in, thrusting her four fingers inside of Louis in a delicious, wet way. She can hear the squelch and wet noises her pussy makes every time Harry thrusts inside of her, can feel her juices dripping onto Harry's hand and she can do nothing but scream. Scream in intense pleasure as Harry crooks her fingers and pounds them into her and hits her g-spot every time.

 

Louis' head is on the crook of Harry's neck, her moans and whines swallowed by her pale, sweet skin. Harry's relentless, fearless, wrecking Louis in ways so beautiful, she feels like a poem Harry's writing on the go.

 

"'M close, so close,  _please_ ," She asks and Harry complies, rubbing her thumb on Louis' clit while fucking her with her fingers. With the sudden change, it doesn't take more than a screamed moan and a second for Louis to come all over Harry's fingers and hand, her wetness covering her like a blanket. She slowly takes her fingers out, gently dragging her hand over her sensitive pussy to make her aftershocks more prominent.

 

"Y'good, sweetheart?" Harry asks and drags them both down, their bodies sweaty and hot against the cool mattress. Louis mumbles something unintelligible, nodding as she grabs the hand Harry had pressed against her and sucking the fingers dry.

 

It's. It's so fucking erotic, is the thing, and it has Harry getting wet again.

 

"Fuck, y'don't have any idea what you do to me," Harry grunts and kisses Louis silly, this time their kiss is tender and sweet. They taste each other, a mixture of one another, and Louis thinks that it's a good mix. Harry's taste is still on her tongue, mingling with her own, and she wishes it'd stay like that.

 

"You're so good at this," Louis says, her voice breaking on a few syllables. "Especially with the, um- wouldn't have known you'd be into that kind of stuff."

 

Harry chuckles and lies her head on Louis' chest, interlacing their fingers. "Wouldn't have guessed you'd be okay with it."

 

"I'm okay with anything that involves you, really."

 

She looks up at Louis, then, but she doesn't say a word. Louis kind of wishes she did, though, so that she had an idea of what's going around her mind, but. Harry just cups her face with such delicacy, as if Louis could break if she held her any rougher, a high contrast to before. Then, she kisses her sweetly, a chaste kiss that remains on Louis' tingling lips. "I like you a lot, y'know." She doesn't give Louis a break to answer and continues, "Good night."

 

She's in shock. Her body stiffens momentarily but then she's filled with so much joy and happiness and comfort, it dissipates easily. She runs her hand through Harry's curls, waits until her breath gets shallow and adds, "I like you a lot, too."

 

-

 

Louis wakes up alone, cold, in a foreign bed.

 

She sits up, grabbing the comforter of the bed with her hands to cover her naked body, and looks around. Harry’s nowhere to be found; her clothes are not there, there’s no phone number written anywhere, there is no sign that Harry ever spent the night. She checks her phone, hoping maybe, just maybe, she has Harry’s phone number stored there but she only sees five missed calls from Zayn and two texts, one from Niall and the other from an unknown number. She quickly taps on the unknown number, expecting it to be Harry but -

 

_From: 398-838-0520_

_Hey love !!!! it’s liam from the coffeeshop . fancy a date ?_

 

She looks at the text and sighs, choosing to ignore it for the time being. The thing is, she's never let someone take that much control from her during sex but it felt so _natural_ with Harry. She felt safe, but now... Now, she feels like an idiot for exposing her vulnerability to a girl she barely knows. Still, though, she wonders what the _heck_ was so wrong that Harry decided to just leave. 

 

Her phone's ringing, and bitter disappointment runs through her as she sees that it's Niall, not Harry. "'Ello?"

 

"Lou!" Niall yells, relief washing over her voice. "Where are you?"

 

"I'm at the frat house," She stands up and starts dressing up again quickly, wanting to be out of the house as soon as possible. "Have you seen Harry?"

 

"No, I haven't," There's some familiar noise in the background so she assumes she's still around the area. "Why, did things not go okay?"

 

"I don't think so," Louis says, not being able to keep the sadness out of her voice. "Are you guys still here? I need a ride back home, now."

 

"Of course, yeah, we're outside-"

 

"See you in five," Louis hangs up and leaves as soon as her heels are on, wanting to leave the frat house without shedding any tears. With a low, harsh pain in her gut, she walks away from what she thought was the best night of her life.

 

-

 

She’s in the flat she shares with Zayn. The room is covered with over thirty oil, pen and pencil paintings, and crumbled manuscripts. Looking at that, she’s reminded that she actually has a first draft of an original play due in, like, three days. Somehow, though, that’s not what’s on her mind as she throws herself on the couch.

 

“So… what happened, Boo?” Zayn asks softly, handing her a tub of ice cream.

 

“We had this, like, amazing night and then she left.” Louis' voice is heavy with unshed tears and they notice it - they always do - so she puts a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. 

 

“What the fuck? Did she say anything?” Niall sits beside Louis on the couch with makeup removers on her lap. Slowly, she drags the wipe over Louis’ face, cleaning the makeup as gently as she can. The tenderness in her touch breaks Louis; it reminds her of how tenderly Harry had cupped her face before saying goodnight, and tears start falling. “Lou, don’t cry, please.”

 

“It’s just -” She hiccups and Zayn keeps staring at her, seemingly cold and standoffish but noticeably worried. “I liked her _so_ much. And it seemed like she liked me too. She just,” Zayn brings a cup of wine to her and she drinks it immediately, the burn soothing the bitterness in her throat. “She just _left_ , without saying anything. I liked her so much and… I thought she liked me too, y’know?”

 

“Oh, honey,” Niall gathers Louis up in a huge hug, letting the blue-eyed beauty bawl on her shoulder. She just looks at Zayn, who’s smoking and running a hand on her crop-short hair, and tilts her head towards the door. Zayn immediately recognizes it and leaves, but Louis doesn’t even notice - she’s too busy having a pity party for herself. Niall moves Louis so that her head is on her lap, keeping up the soothing gestures. "Forget about Harry, okay? She clearly doesn't deserve a wonderful girl like you, no need to tear up after her."

 

Louis hugs her shoulders to her chest and sniffles, trying to control herself. It's a rainy day, she notices, and for some reason it makes her feel like she's part of her surroundings. "It just hurts."

 

"I know, Boo," She says and kisses the top of her head. Let's just- let's watch a movie, yeah?"

 

"Nothing romantic," Louis says. "Or indie - she liked that kind of stuff."

 

"Of course," Niall agrees and puts on a documentary about food, knowing it'll interest her enough for her to invest her full attention towards it, clearing her mind of Harry. Even if just for a little while.

 

+

 

Harry hasn’t been back to the coffee shop since that day.

 

Louis’ been working longer hours, going to the shop every day, trying to maybe catch a glimpse of the curly-haired beauty, but nothing. She thinks Harry just hates her, there’s no other possible thing. Was she _that_ bad at sex? She knows it’d been, like, seven or eight months since the last time she fucked someone, but those kinds of skills don’t just disappear. Was it her clear emotional attachment? Her vulnerability? Did Harry just want a quick lay and fool Louis into believing she wanted more? These questions have been haunting her ever since that day. Thankfully, she's been able to make some sort of superficial peace with it and can think of her without feeling like her chest is about to explode, so that's a start. It's hard, though.

 

She goes to the back for a moment, taking advantage of the fact that it's night and there are no customers around, and she picks up the draft of her manuscript. She's reading over it, highlighting parts that needed correcting and such, making sure to mark them down so that she can remedy them before class on Thursday, which is in two days. Halfway through it, when she thinks she's about to just close shop and go to her flat, she hears the voice she least expected to appear from outside of the shop.

 

“Ni, I really don't want to see her.”

 

“I know that you don't but, quite frankly, _I don't care_. Now please, just fuckin' open the door before I kick you through it.”

 

Louis checks the clock; it’s 11:47pm. There’s thirteen minutes left for closing time, there’s no one left, so she doesn’t know what the _fuck_ Niall is engineering, but she’s not exactly the happiest gal in the moment.

 

She looks straight at Harry’s eyes as the beauty walks in, and. Her eyes - her beautiful, green eyes - are rimmed red. Her clothes are disheveled, one of her legs has a sock on while the other doesn’t, and she looks so, painfully beautiful.

 

Harry takes a deep breath and shoves Niall away, murmuring _I knew this was a bad idea_ , but the desperate timbre of Louis’ voice stops her.

 

“So, you're just going to leave again? Without saying anything?" She's ashamed of how much her voice trembles but she continues on, masking on a brave face. "I guess leaving is just your forte, isn’t it?”

 

She turns around, then, and Louis’ hurting. It’s been almost a week since she last saw Harry, since she saw and felt her soft skin under her fingertips, since she kissed the beauty marks on her thighs. It’s been almost a week, and she’s not saying anything. “Are you just going to stay there and not say anything?”

 

“What is there to say?” Harry says softly. It’s been almost a week since Louis has heard her voice, and the deep-seated cracks in it don’t belong there. “I don't feel like being in the face of a liar.”

 

At that Louis flinches, a confused expression falling on her face. “What do you mean?”

 

“I saw the text, okay?” Harry’s voice cracks. “From Liam. Asking for a date.”

 

“Oh, that,” Louis says, not really sure how this adds up to anything. “What -”

 

“You told me that you weren't interested in him _at all_. You said you only had eyes for me,” Harry's smile is watery, sardonic and it doesn't belong there. That kind of smile doesn't go along with who Harry is. "Yet he said on the text that  _you_ were the one who asked him on a date." Louis' eyes widen as Harry takes a harsh intake of breath, her voice growing hoarser. "Was I just some lay to you? Because you were a lot more to me."

 

And _now_ it dawns on Louis. She leaps from behind the counter and walks towards Harry cautiously, careful of not making Harry feel uncomfortable. “You weren't just some lay for me, Haz.”

 

Harry stays silent at that, so she continues on. “Liam is this guy who I was contemplating dating when I didn’t know if you were into girls.”

 

She’s met with more silence. “I had been pining over you for months, and it seemed to be going nowhere. So, I told Liam I was interested in going out with him, to see if I could maybe get over this immense crush I had on you.”

 

Harry’s eyes widen and she hugs herself, suddenly insecure and afraid. “What do you mean?”

 

At that Louis steps forward, closing in on her. Harry lets her. “You're basically everything I have ever wanted in a person, Harry. I've been crazy about you since you first stepped foot inside this establishment.”

 

Harry’s cheeks redden at the statement. “What, why?”

 

“Because,” Louis takes a deep breath. “You are so insanely, breathtakingly smart and kind and _beautiful_ , it drives me nuts. You’re perfect.”

 

“I’m not,” Harry softly whispers. “I’m failing two of my classes, I am not good at yoga, I’m basically the definition of hipster, and I suck at focusing at more than one thing at a time.”

 

“I don’t believe it,” Louis says hastily. Her frown turns into a soft smile, and she can hear Harry’s breath hitch. “I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”

 

Harry looks at her strangely. “How do you propose you do that?”

 

Louis grabs her hands and lifts one of them to plant a kiss. “Go on a date with me.”

 

“But I-”

 

“I don’t know how to cook or clean properly, I’m failing my drama script class, I hate doing exercise in general, and when heartbroken, I actually become the stereotypical crying girl with a tub of ice cream in hand.”

 

Harry doesn’t say anything at that for a moment and Louis’ afraid she’s scared her off, but. “I don’t believe it.”

 

“You don’t?” Louis asks, a giddy smile taking over her entire complexion. “What do you propose we do about that?”

 

“Go on a date with me,” Harry looks into her eyes. “Let me apologize for making quick assumptions and being an asshole, and let me court you properly.”

 

Louis giggles at her and nods. “Can I kiss you?”

 

She bites her lip and smiles. “Of course.”

 

Then, they kiss. They kiss much like they did last time, but instead of tasting like smoke and alcohol Harry tastes like cinnamon and spice and everything nice. Louis places her hands on the side of Harry’s face and dominates the kiss, her tongue slipping in gently, not to dirty-up the kiss but to explore everything Harry has to offer.

 

They breathe deeply, then, and separate momentarily. Louis laughs against Harry’s lips and says, “And here I thought I was just very bad in bed.”

 

Harry immediately shakes her head. “No, _no_ , you’re very good. Like, mind-blowingly.”

 

Louis giggles and says, “That’s good. We should practice often, though, to make sure we’re in sync.”

 

Harry throws her head back in laughter. “Sure, of course, love.”

  
After that, they just kiss; they kiss like it’s the only thing they can do.

 

+

 

_Six months later._

 

The sight she wakes up to, is to Harry's head between her thighs. Her mouth is on her stomach, whispering sweet nothings and blowing raspberries into the softness of her small tummy.

 

"Why d'you like that pouch so much?" Louis grumbles, her voice laced with sleep. "'M not pregnant or anything, so it's not a good pouch. It's, like, an unfit pouch. A pouch that reminds me how unfit I've gotten. An unfit pouch, 's what it is."

 

"I love it," Harry blows raspberries again and Louis can't help but giggle, looking down at her with idiotic love. "It's soft, like you."

 

"You're such a moron," She squeals when Harry bites down harshly into the side of her hip and shrugs a little bit away. Harry holds her by the hips, though, and suddenly the mood kind of changed. Harry goes back to nibble at the skin, only this time Louis moans instead of squeal, and she can feel herself slick up.

 

"Haz," Louis lets out in a soft, breathy moan. Harry just chuckles, though, and continues on, pressing her lips on any available patch of skin. It isn't long till Harry's lips are on her pussy.

 

She rides her like a champ. Louis grinds her pussy onto Harry's mouth as if it were a sacred throne, custom-made for her cunt. Harry's mouth is so obscenely good, it normally doesn't take Louis very long to come on her tongue - especially not this early in the morning, when she's still slightly disoriented from last night, when they tried out Harry's favorite dildo on her (Louis discovered it wasn't only fun to fuck Harry with it, but also  _be fucked_ by Harry with it). Thinking about that and having Harry's hot, wet mouth around her drives her to the edge.

 

"Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_ ," She swears as she releases into Harry's mouth, the curve of her back softening as she gets down from on top of Harry and lies down next to her. Her body's still trembling when she asks, "D'you want me to-?"

 

"I kinda already did."

 

Louis looks at her - at her beautiful, wonderful, lovely girlfriend - and dies a little on the inside. "That is so  _hot_ , what the  _fuck_ , Haz."

 

Harry only giggles and presses her face to the crook of Louis' neck. They stay like that for a good while, a good ten minutes before their peace is disturbed by loud knocking on the room door.

 

"Are you guys done fucking?" Zayn asks, completely chill. "'Cause Louis, you and I have to go to the theater, 'member?"

 

"Oh shit," Louis quickly gets up and raids her closet, anxiously looking over to see what she should wear.

 

"What should I wear, Haz?"

 

"Nothing; your arse looks phenomenal when it's all bare and nude."

 

Louis glares at her and cocks the side of her hip. "D'you really want everyone at the theater to see my arse?"

 

Harry burrows her eyebrows and looks like she's regretting everything she's ever said in her life. "Wear sweatpants and a loose tee. My loose tee. Wear all of my clothes."

 

"You idiot," Louis says and she wears a pair of skinny jeans and a big, loose white shirt (that does, in fact, belong to Harry). She doesn't have a bra on but, frankly, she doesn't  _care_. She hurriedly goes to Harry and kisses her goodbye, but before she can step out Harry stops her.

 

"Louis, did you put on any underwear?"

 

"Nope, goin' commando, love" She winks and giggles at Harry's groan. "Goodbye, love. Love you."

 

"Love you, too," Harry says, suffocated behind one of their pillows. Zayn's honking from her car outside but Harry still stops her. "Hey, Boo."

 

She turns around immediately, eyes downcast, directed at the beautiful woman sitting on her bed. It's - It's kind of surreal, really, to realize that they're _together_ , that someone like Harry wants someone like Louis. "What, love?"

 

" _I have named you Queen_ ," She stands up and she's - she's naked, this is not a good time to be naked. Harry being naked is too distracting; whenever she is wearing clothes Louis can't seem to take her eyes off her, but when she's  _not_ it's literally impossible. She's walking towards her, slowly, serenely, and Louis can't do much except wait and take deep breaths. When she reaches her, Harry tilts Louis' head upward and mouths at the column of her neck. " _There are taller than you, taller._ "

 

Louis frowns, affronted and slightly offended. "Hey-"

 

" _There are purer than you, purer_."

 

"You contributed to my lack of purity, Styles, so you're as much to blame here-  _ah_."

 

Harry bites down to a patch of skin, harshly marking the exposed area. Louis lets out a small whine of  _Harry_ , but she pays her no mind. " _There are lovelier than you, lovelier_."

 

She stays quiet, then, knowing what Harry's doing. Her face is angled downwards, hoping to let Harry know she really wants to kiss her, but the taller of the two takes her sweet time. The drag of her lips leave her neck wetly, reaching her mouth in what seems like hours. She doesn't lean in, though, just stays there, breathing Louis in. Then, she says, " _But you are the queen_."

 

Louis rolls her eyes and kisses her, enraptures her mouth and tongue. "Neruda?"

 

"Of course," Harry says simply and turns her around, forcing her to leave with a slap on the bum. As she giggles, Louis contemplates on how- it's nice, this feeling; the feeling of going away and knowing you have someone to go back home to.

**Author's Note:**

> now that authors are revealed... please kudos and comment if you like it! feel free to message me at my [tumblr](http://www.alwaysinmyheartsincerely.tumblr.com) :) hope y'all enjoyed it!


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